


vectors

by CantabileCross



Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: OGS Fic Fest, Psychological, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 16:12:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12561212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CantabileCross/pseuds/CantabileCross
Summary: Sunggyu is stuck between the hands of a living clock, the arms of an unmoving chair, the distance between the blush of Myungsoo’s wrist and the arc of Howon’s palm.





	vectors

It was the first time Howon had seen Sunggyu without the unflattering bar lighting sharpening the contours of his neck. That winning wineglass grin, fluorescent stars between electric teeth. Canines that tightened around Howon’s lungs, swallowed his soul when he locked his lips.

A natural daylight seemed to converge beyond the morning dew, spilling through the windows in strawberry patch patterns and here there were no shadows beneath Sunggyu’s eyes, only a boyish quality, dishwater anxiety that made Howon realize he looked just like any other young man. Under the darkness of cocktail-stained satin those eyes had stared, hardened with the lines of cynicism, into deicide lusts and candlelight pretenses, caught against the corners of sunspots where they’re not wanted.

Here they traveled in moon cycles, waning through various expressions until they settled into wary slits. Wandered while he murmured a sleepy good morning into his coffee mug, met Howon’s eyes over a bowl of milk and soggy cereal. Hummed as he tapped against his watch and took note of its time, even though it’d stopped working weeks ago. Upside-down smiled and Howon should say something but instead he let the silence hang like dust in a shaft of light. Let it fall softly until it suffocated him inside-out, glazed his windpipes until they congealed into gridlock iron, festering regret.

They didn’t speak to each other often. Maybe it was because there was nothing for them to say. Maybe it was because there were things to say but no words to say them with. Maybe it was because Howon always turned away to occupy himself in a way that gave him no time to think and therefore no time to think of things to say. Maybe it was because when Sunggyu did speak he spliced his phrases between forbidden thoughts, severed their corners and served them in a trough of anorexic epithets. Dressed them with words he didn't say to mean and choked on the thoughts he meant to say. Maybe it was that Sunggyu was always long gone before daybreak crept into the city, and they could only ever talk to each other in polaroid dreams, midnight geometry superimposed against cold linen.

Or maybe it was just this uncomfortable feeling that Howon got, during these silences, like something was stuck in his teeth.

-

The world Myungsoo knew was made of bruising scarlet and self-fulfilling prophecies. He met Sunggyu for the first time at a food stall that sold stir-fried octopus and cheap soju. It was a bad work day so there was alcohol involved and Myungsoo had said to the guy eating alone one table over did anyone ever tell you that you look like a fox and the guy said yeah I get that a lot and Myungsoo told him arctic foxes changed color depending on the season, you look like you would change colors too. And then Sunggyu had laughed at that and all the light in the tent bent Myungsoo’s vision (or maybe it was the soju) until the only thing he could see was Sunggyu’s face.

The world Myungsoo knew was knotted at the ends in jagged cobalt strokes and balled up into a steel shell wasteland. He met Sunggyu for the first time at a coffee shop with his chin hidden under the gunmetal grey of the cover of a laptop. He said good morning to the sunken dregs and the guy typing alone one table over looked up over his cappuccino with a face Myungsoo couldn’t discern. Coffee shops smelled of poetry and caramel creams and hearts waiting to begin so Myungsoo gathered enough courage to say did anyone ever tell you that you look like a fox and the guy said all too quickly yeah I get that a lot and Myungsoo told him arctic foxes changed color depending on the season, you look like you would change colors too. And then Sunggyu had laughed at that, loudly and maybe a little sadly, but that could’ve been because the sun got into Myungsoo’s eyes and he couldn't see very well.

The world Myungsoo knew was made of rainwater that penetrated the earth in parallel needles. He met Sunggyu for the first time at a corner store trying to save his jacket from the rain. The guy the next aisle over had his earphones in and the music blasting and Myungsoo wanted to tell him music played at loud volumes is bad for your ears but when the man turned around at his touch all he could think of was to say did anyone ever tell you that you look like a fox. And then Sunggyu had laughed at that but Myungsoo couldn’t remember exactly how and there was something unsettling settling itself into the arc of his neck.

And the world, the world was made of orange juice fingers and thousand won smiles.

-

In the mornings Howon can’t feel his face, can’t feel the sunrise and its daily passage over the skyline. He can’t feel the toothbrush against his gums, can’t feel the edges of the sleeves of his coat. Can’t feel the mundanity of a daily routine, nor the lined-up buttons of his dress shirt, not even the parched notion of dullness that sifts itself through his thoughts like flour through a strainer; the colorlessness of ordinary mendacity at least bleeds into grays and whites seared at the corners, but Howon doesn’t have even that.

He’s lost sensation in his fingertips, in the way his mouth curls at every sound, in the heels of his dress shoes that clatter hollowly against the halls of a building that can’t hear his footsteps. He can’t feel the hands of the men and women he shakes, nor the sharp hands of a round clock cutting away at his time.

Can’t feel a steering wheel that doesn’t move, can’t feel the wind on a star-strewn highway, can’t feel the world that feels too much on its own.

-

Myungsoo met Sunggyu for the first time at the platform of a subway station. In his hurry he had dropped his wallet by the escalators. Sunggyu had chased him through the pearl-light pastiche of rush hour and only eventually caught up to him behind the closed doors of a train car, grumbling about how he was going in the wrong direction, what a good samaritan I am being for going so far out of my way to return this, sure would’ve kept it if you’d had more than a thousand won in coins.

Myungsoo would try to decide between a rude retort and a curt thanks, but when his eyes met the pretentious arc of the older man’s (if you could call those narrow curvy things eyes), following the hard lines of his features to a nose wrinkled in disdain, he’d remember a nature documentary he’d seen the night before.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you look like a fox?”

The guy looked offended enough that Myungsoo was almost afraid he actually wouldn’t give his wallet back but all of a sudden he broke into laughter, this sincere, broken thing that sounded nothing like the way he looked. Or maybe he was laughing at Myungsoo, but Myungsoo didn’t really care, and Myungsoo would never complain.

-

Myungsoo spends his words on kisses and whispers and dates at the park, darlings and I love yous beneath a shared umbrella. Pays his nights with telephone conversations about nothing, sings love songs to narrowed eyes and a slender wrist. He likes talking to Sunggyu because he’s a good listener who always has something to say. Sunggyu never gets mad at Myungsoo, not even when he accidentally breaks his precious watch one day trying to grab the car keys in desperation. Doesn’t mind it when Sunggyu makes fun of him because Sunggyu’s laugh is worth being made fun of.

Myungsoo’s world is made of Sunggyu.

-

Howon is a broken watch, his hands don’t move and his face is made of glass and he’s useless and cold and only good to fuck around with. That’s what Sunggyu says to himself when he breathes into his neck, fingers twisted between the slope of alcohol-stained sheets. Howon’s heart beats through his hand when he presses it against Sunggyu’s cheek.

Myungsoo is home, Myungsoo is all the colors of the sea, Myungsoo is song bursting from his lips, Myungsoo is the light in the sky the world can’t reach that Sunggyu holds dangerously close to the earth.

Sunggyu is stuck between the hands of a living clock, the arms of an unmoving chair, the distance between the blush of Myungsoo’s wrist and the arc of Howon’s palm.

-

Sometimes, behind a glass of whiskey Howon is almost sure he can feel something pounding in his head. Someone slides into the seat beside his and Howon doesn’t need to look to know who.

“You’ll ruin him, you know,” he slurs, fingers curled around the cusp of his glass. “You’re gonna ruin him.”

Howon can’t see Sunggyu’s eyes underneath the unflattering lighting of the bar. Something almost pounds at his heart.

“I know.”

-

“Next time, invite me when you visit your friend.”

Sunggyu is a pause, a moment. That indescribable silence before a suspended object is cut loose. “I don’t know what you mean.” He always knows what Myungsoo means.

And Myungsoo, Myungsoo is home, Myungsoo is all the colors of the sea, Myungsoo is song bursting from his lips, Myungsoo is the light in the sky that Sunggyu can’t catch when he shatters against the earth.

-

Once, Myungsoo breaks his watch. So Sunggyu tapes the pieces together and puts it back in the sky, sets it to a time that ticks between the seconds.


End file.
